Her lips twisted into a smile as she dragged her blade across the man's throat. A moment before he hadn't even known she was there. She had been a shadow, invisible and unknown until her hand had clamped itself over his mouth with a deceptively strong grip. Before he even had time to struggle, she had slit his throat; penetrating deep just above the larynx so he would be unable to make a sound as he bled out. She held him a moment longer before simply letting go and letting him crumple to the floor, stepping back a bit to avoid the ever growing pool of his blood.
This was the fourth such time Sable had smiled that night. Not once had one of the thugs hired as guards even known she was there; the last thing they would ever know being the brief feeling of cold steel against their necks. The smile vanished as she realized that was probably the last of them. She was closing in on her target. This mildly wealthy fool had angered Maven Black-Briar, one of the most influential people in Riften, by attempting to buy a one of the meaderies she used as a front business. Even though the idiot probably had no idea of his crime, Black-Briar would not let the insult go and so had contracted the Thieves Guild to teach him a lesson. The lesson being the planting of a stolen artifact from the local temple of Mara in his bedroom, after which the city guard would get an anonymous tip. He would likely be jailed long enough to see his small wealth slowly shrink away until he would be left impoverished.
Because of the nature of the job, Sable had been specifically instructed not to kill the target. "The target is to be left alive, lass." It was a frequent order issued to her by Brynjolf, the second in command of the guild. Sable honestly had no idea why it mattered. Weren't the goods just as valuable whether or not the mark lived through the theft? She supposed that technically if they weren't alive to experience the loss of possession then it wasn't technically theft and more likely to be considered looting. She hated technicalities though. She'd rather just kill everyone in the way and make off with the goods. This attitude that had nearly got her expelled from the guild on more than one occasion, but they couldn't argue with results and Sable had brought a lot of wealth to the guild since Brynjolf had recruited her. Maybe that's why she was on her fourth or fifth final warning. "The target is to be left alive, lass." True, but he had said nothing about the hired help.
"By the Eight, lass, you were to plant the artifact, not create a bloodbath!"
"Did I not fulfill the job?" Sable asked Brynjolf. She was more than irritated even though the conversation had just begun. She already knew the lecture she was going to get. She had been given it many times before.
"Sure you planted the loot, but the job was almost botched when the fool woke up to find his house full of bodies." Brynhjolf countered. "Whatever happened to discretion? We're thieves, not the Dark Brotherhood. With your body count, it's a wonder that they haven't already come after you for stealing some of their thunder."
"You only said the target was not to be killed. You never said anything about the dumb oafs he called personal guard." Brynjolf rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Besides, the job was still successful. In fact, I would argue that it went even better than expected when the city guard ended up accusing him of the murders. His fall was even greater. As I hear it, Maven was most pleased."
"Indeed she was, but that's not the point, lass." The big man tried to explain. "We're supposed to keep a low profile and a trail of bodies doesn't accomplish that. What happens when there are so many bodies that the guard can't be paid off anymore?"
Sable opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off. "I don't want to hear it, lass! The only reason I'm not expelling you from the guild is because Maven personally requested that I promote you and give her the opportunity to work with you again. I might have ignored such a request, but, unfortunately, Mercer agreed."
Mercer Frey? She had caught the attention of the reclusive and crotchety guildmaster? She wasn't sure she was going to be able to suppress the smile of satisfaction. Finally, it looked like she was moving up. Maybe even to a position with some power. She cherished the thought. After all, the most precious commodity was power; simple as that. She who had the power, made the rules; could do whatever they pleased with no one to stop them.
Fortunately, Brynjolf dismissed her before she was no longer able to contain herself. As soon as her face turned away, a grin stretched out across it. As she left Brynjolf's quarters, she made to find Mercer Frey immediately.
The meeting with Mercer had not gone the way Sable thought it would have. Apparently catching the attention of Frey was not always considered a good thing. He gave her much the same lecture about killing people as Brynjolf had, though unlike his second in command, the guild master didn't even try to maintain his composure. The tirade went on for a while before she could get in a word to defend herself.
"Brynjolf said that you agreed with the methods I used and how badly the merchant ended up being disgraced." She interjected nervously.
"I agree with Black-Briar being pleased." Mercer's gravelly voice seemed to only become harder to hear when he was angry. "However, I don't agree with you making it look like we're trying to put the Dark Brotherhood out of business! We're thieves, not murderers. The only reason I'm not expelling you from the guild is because Maven would be quite upset if I did."
"I'm sorry, then." Sable said. "I will be more respectful of guild rules and the directives of both you and Byrnjolf from now on." The only reason she meant it was because she didn't want to be expelled and be on her own again. It had taken her a long time to find a group to accept her in. And while she always felt that she didn't completely belong, she wasn't about to go it alone again.
"Well maybe you can actually mean it, this time!" The lord of the thieves shouted before taking a moment to calm himself. "At any rate, Maven has suggested that you be promoted. However, I don't think that someone that so flouts the rules of my guild should be rewarded."
Her countenance darkened considerably at that point and she lowered her face a bit to avoid letting Mercer see it. This fool just wanted to keep her down, same as Brynjolf.
"Still," he continued without noticing the change in his subordinate. "I can't deny you have real skill. So I'm going to make you a Special Acquirer."
Sable's gaze snapped up to her leader. "I've never heard that title before."
"It has never existed before." Mercer explained with a sly smile. "You will be the first. Don't become too pleased with yourself." He said as he saw the smile forming on her fair face. "You will report only to me and Brynjolf. You will take no job without our approval and the jobs you get will generally come with higher risk or be those that come with special instructions or unusual parameters. Because of this, we'll never know when a job requiring your attention will come along, so we'll need you to remain down here in the Cistern or the Flagon as much as possible."
"So basically, I'm awarded with getting all the sewer jobs but at the same time I must remain confined down here so you can keep an eye on me." She said, her mood becoming dark again.
A smile and dismissal from Frey was her only response. She fled the room frustrated and feeling rather unappreciated.
Sable made her way to her bed in the common area of the Cistern. The Cistern was a large circular area of the sewers beneath Riften. In the middle was an actual cistern over which four bridges, one from each side of the room, that met in the middle at a circular dais suspended over the "pond" below. Also leading away from each bridge were passageways that led to other parts of the sewer. The one she was coming from led to Mercer's quarters and the vault. To her left was the ladder that led up to the guild's secret entrance in the cemetery of Riften. Ahead of her, across the cistern, was the entrance to The Ragged Flagon – the guild's tavern. But she went to her right. In that tunnel, the training areas and barracks were found.
She didn't quite make it there before she was waylaid by young thief that called himself Flicker. Supposedly, he earned his nickname from his ability to clean out a house in the "flicker" of an eye. However, Sable was beginning to think it applied in another way. The young Imperial was so timid that she figured he would come apart at the seams if anyone so much as looked at him cross-eyed. He seemed particularly nervous on this occasion though.
"S-Sable!" he caught her attention apparently louder than he intended as he immediately flinched and looked around to make sure he hadn't gathered anyone else's. When he decided all was clear, he quickly took the couple of steps needed to close the distance between them. "Um ... hi. H-How are you doing?"
"Not great, Flicker. What do you need?" She sighed. She really just wanted to be alone for bit after the disastrous meeting with the guildmaster.
"Oh, well then … maybe I'll ask you another time, then." He wrung his hands as his gaze dropped to the floor.
"Ask me what?" She was guessing that she wouldn't like where this would go, but was curious hoping that perhaps it wasn't what she thought it was.
"What?" He startled. "Oh, well … well, the Bee and Barb was … um … well I think they make a pretty good venison stew. At least I think so anyway. Have you ever tried it?" He paused searching for some kind of reaction. "Well, I just thought that … uh … that maybe we could maybe go have some one night."
Sable managed to keep the groan from becoming audible; it was exactly what she thought it was.
"I don't think so Flicker." She had no interest in letting him down easily – even if she hadn't been in a foul mood due to the meeting she just had with Mercer Frey.
His eyes dropped back to the floor. "Oh, I see." He replied dejectedly.
She was about to just leave the newest member of the guild to do whatever he needed to do with the rejection but then curiosity overcame her suddenly and surprisingly.
"Why'd you even ask?" She inquired.
"What do you mean?" Confusion evident in his voice and the look on his face.
"What made you so interested in me?" Sable clarified.
"You're beautiful!" He blurted out. He realized it and took a moment to reign himself in. "Sorry, it's just that the first time I saw you, you took my breath away. Your white hair, your fair – very fair skin, the pale blue silver color of your eyes and light but full lips. And your voluptuous …"
"I see." She interrupted. At first his enthusiastic and unusually bold response was quite flattering, but as he got carried away, it started to become a little creepy. He was disturbingly accurate with his description. Her appearance was decidedly fair, even by Nord standards and it had always gotten her a bit more attention than she cared for, though not always friendly. And the men that did show an amorous intent towards her quickly learned to lose their interest as she had never shown any towards them.
"Well, thank you." She finally offered. "But I'm just not interested in any relationship beyond a working one."
"I … uh … I understand." He tried to put on a façade of confidence and with most people he might have succeeded, but she saw the small tell-tales of one hiding emotional pain. She was quite good at reading people, finding it yet another way to hold power. If she knew their emotional state, she could manipulate or even crush a person if needed.
Sable didn't wait for any further conversation from him. She left him and went straight to her shared room and was relieved to find that all of her roommates were not currently there. She went to the chest at the foot of her bed and, glancing around to make sure she was alone, opened it. Inside lay the only possession she valued. It was a length of high quality silk. It was a deep purple color and the fabric still retained the sheen from when it was first wove. The artist had also embroidered with gold thread depictions of flowers most closely resembling the flower heads of the deathbell. She'd had it for as long as she could remember though she did not recall how she came to possess it. Sable assumed that it had come from her mother and somehow that just seemed to feel right to her. She loved how pretty it was. She adored it and visualized how wonderful it would look tied in her white locks while she wore a beautiful gown. She longed for the day when she would be able to dress up in such pretty things, but didn't suppose it would ever happen. She was, after all, a thief, and a murderous one at that.
Sable sighed and hid the ribbon back in her chest and laid down to get some sleep. She was sure she would need the rest for whatever jobs Mercer and Brynjolf would dream up for her to do.
A/N: First off, a big thank you to Kira Mackey for all her help with getting acquainted with . This is my first fanfic, so please leave a review and let me know what you think.